I used to write a lot for warrior cats and wings of fire - figured I may as well post some of the old stories here!
Many of these are unfinished and will likely remain that way unless interest is expressed - I just like having a place to keep things that would otherwise go unseen that I worked hard on a long time ago!!
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Snippet One: Suremuh
The smell of death hangs heavy in the air, thick enough that it fills Suremuh's lungs just as deeply as the smoke that surrounds him. It's never been a scent that would have bothered him before, but now, sitting with shackles tight around his wrists and his ribs protruding painfully from his sides, he does not find it quite as comforting.
Shifting his wings only to get caught on more chains, he sighs. There's no use trying to get comfortable- he is a prisoner, after all. Why would they bother keeping his stay comfortable?
It's the sound of jingling keys draws his gaze towards the bars blocking off the entrance to his cage, and his eyes narrow as a Lavawing flanked by two guards comes into view. She's surprisingly sleek for a dragon of her breed, and she matches his stare with cool, level eyes from beneath her pristine white hood. She's adorned in gold from head to claw, jewels catching the dim light of the dungeon and . . .
She's gorgeous.
Suremuh quickly pushes the thought away, frowning as she steps closer.
The maroon scales on her arms seem to shimmer as she waves the guards off, whispering something to the one on the left before dismissing him. They bow before leaving, a sign of respect that Suremuh has yet to see from the Lavawings. How curious...who was this dragon?
"Suremuh." She says once she is sure the guards are gone, her voice silky and smooth - melodic even. Suremuh is momentarily taken aback by how warm her tone is, and as she reaches up to pull her hood down, Suremuh finds that her eyes are filled with that same warmth. "How great to finally meet you."
Suremuh keeps his eyes glued to hers. "I'm afraid I can't say I return the pleasure." It pains him with every word, his throat cracking with the effort as his words came out broken and rasped. Water is a luxury he hasn't been granted in almost two days, and the bit he occasionally did get was always lukewarm or even boiling in temperature, leaving his throat aching for the fresh, cool streams of his home.
"Now now, no need to be bitter." The Lavawing chides as she settles down beside the bars of his prison, her amusement clear. "I come bearing good news."
A surge of hope fills Suremuh's chest. Good news? Could that mean...
"You're freeing me?"
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